Cat Eyes
Story: Author: Girlsgirlsboys Type: Original Story Rating: Explicit Chapter 1: The Cat "UGH! No, no, NO! It's not right!" I sigh. Winona, my older foster sister, is such a drama queen. She's always bitching about something. It annoys the crap out of me. This time, she's frustrated with her hair for not getting in the style she wants it to do. I hope it'll style for her, because I'm so sick of listening to her bitching. "Dammit! Stupid, damn hair! You WILL style for me! You WILL!" I wish my foster parents would yell at her, but I know they won't. They constantly spoil Winona, letting her have her way all the time. I'm their foster child, so I'm less important than Winona. I hardly care, though. I prefer to keep to myself anyway. Gary (foster father) and Ann (foster mother) never take any interest in my activities. The only reason they fostered me was so they'd get more points with their rich neighbors. I'd learned from Cookie Dough, Mrs. Sampson's cat. Yep, I just said cat. I've always had the ability to talk to cats. They're the only ones who ever listen to me. I adore Cookie Dough. She always comes by and talks when I need it. She's this elderly Persian who has children and grandchildren. Gary, Ann and Winona hate cats. Heh. They sometimes see me talking to one of the neighborhood cats and think I'm crazy. "STYLE FOR ME, DAMMIT!" I throw my pen down. I'm so tired of Winona's screaming. I pick my pen off the ground, take my sketchbook and go outside. Hell, even there, I'll still here Winona shriek. Hopefully, Cookie Dough will be out there. I sit in one of the patio chairs and open my sketchbook. My sketchbook's full of, you guessed it, cat sketches. This time, I'm working on a picture of Milky and Silky. Hello, my dear human girl! I look up with a grin. Cookie Dough threads herself through the metal white fence separating the Foxes and the Sampsons' houses. Cookie Dough is beautiful, especially for a cat of her age. She's ten, which is seventy in human years. Still, she has plenty of energy and a big heart. "I was wondering when you'd show up, Cookie," I say as Cookie Dough settles in a chair opposite of me. What's wrong, dear? Something bothering you? ''Cookie asks as she looks at me with her big green eyes. As if on cue, Winona starts shrieking. ''Oh. That's it. I nod with a sigh. "She hasn't stopped," I sigh. "You know, I know Gary and Ann feed me and stuff, but I want love. I want someone to love me for who I am. I'm not perfect. I'm strange, I know I am. But...all my life, nobody has loved me. No one wants me around..." Cookie's ears perk up. Well, dammit, I adore you, Maren. You're like my human grandchild. Humans are such creatures, ''she meows heartily. I smile a little and scratch Cookie Dough behind her ears. "Thanks, Cookie," I say. "I wish I was a cat. Maybe then people wouldn't think I was crazy for understanding you." Cookie and I sit for several quiet moments together. I'm grateful to at least have her for a friend. She's the only one who talks to me on a daily basis. But I know in two or three or four years, she'd die. She's an old cat and I'm dreading the future of losing her. Suddenly, I drop my sketchbook, pull Cookie out of her chair and hug her tightly. "I wish you were my cat, Cookie Dough." ''Oh, sweetheart, ''Cookie purrs. I stroke her fur and we sit for a few minutes in each other's company. I wish this time wouldn't end. "Cookie Dough? Where are you, sweetie?" Mrs. Sampson is calling for her cat. She's seventy years old, the same age as Cookie in human years. ''Sorry, dear Maren, but Betty is calling for me to come home, ''Cookie says. Half her face says she wants to go back to her mistress. The other half says she's reluctant to leave me alone. "Okay, bye, Cookie. Thanks for sitting with me," I say, hiding my disappointment. ''It's my pleasure, Maren, ''Cookie says firmly. She jumps out of my lap. ''Good-bye for now! ''She sashays in her cat way back to her home. "Mary Rose! Come here!" Ugh. Ann's calling for me. She always calls me by my full name instead of Maren. I hate it, because Mary Rose was my mother's name and I'm an orphan. Worse, everyone who knew my parents keep saying how much I look like my mother. I slowly get out of my chair, taking my sketchbook with me. "Yes, Mrs. Fox?" I say. I'm not allowed to call Gary and Ann by their first names or they'll tear a page out of my sketchbook. They've done it before. "What is ''this ''doing on the floor?" Ann asks pointedly, holding a flashy silver scarf in front of my face. It's clearly not mine. Winona has all the flashy clothes, while I wear the same thing pretty much every day. "It's Winona's," I say simply. "I dislike flashy clothes." "I'm not talking about Winona," Ann says, glaring at me like I dirtied her floor. "I'm talking about you. This was on the floor." "So? Winona wore it to school today but ripped it off as soon as she came home," I explain. "She threw it on the floor." "Why didn't you pick it up and put it away?" Ann asks. "Because it's not mine," I say, making eye contact. "You see something on the floor, you pick it up," Ann says in a voice that means she's about to raise her voice. "Mrs. Fox, there's all kinds of things on Winona's floor," I say in a smart-ass tone. "Would you like me to go pick those up, too?" Two seconds later, Ann slaps me across the face. "Don't get smart with me, young lady!" she snaps. I realize how angry I feel. Angry at the fact I'd been forced to live with them. Angry at the four months I've been living with them. Angry at the fact they neglect me in favor of their birth daughter. Angry at the fact their daughter makes fun of me mercilessly. Angry at the fact the parents yell and slap me. Angry at the fact I'm always in trouble for things Winona has done. Angry at the fact they fostered me only to be invited to fancy parties thrown by their rich neighbors. Angry at the fact they don't love me. I'm so sick of tolerating this. I look Ann in the eye. "You're one of the most awful women I've ever met!" I cry. Ann stops, her eyes widening. "Wh-what did you say?" Ann asks. I raise my voice. "You and your husband and your daughter are horrible people! You blame me for everything that goes wrong in your life, everything your daughter does, everything! You're neglectful to me but you spoil Winona to the point she's a fucking brat! Your husband blames me for losing the client he brought to dinner weeks ago! You people only fostered me so you'd get invited to all these parties your neighbors throw! I hate you! I hate you, Ann, I hate Gary and I hate Winona! I HATE YOU ALL!" Ann says nothing. Her mouth is open and it's moving, like she's trying to form words. I see Gary and Winona standing behind her. "Oh, Mommy!" Winona cries, flying to her mother and hugging her. To me, she shrieks, "You horrible bitch! How dare you-" "Shut up, Winona," I snap. Winona's eyes go wide. This is the first time someone's ever told her to shut up. "How dare you insult my wife and tell my daughter to shut up!" Gary demands. "How dare ''you ''insult me every day of my life?" I snap back. "Good-bye. I hope I never see you again." With that, I leave the house, not caring I'm a foster child and they're my foster family. '''A few hours later, 7:15 P.M.' My stomach growls. I shiver in the cold of the night. Nights in St. Louis are cold, especially in fall and winter. The only things I have are my clothes on my body, my sketchbook and my pen. I hug my knees on the curb of the sidewalk in the alley. Please God, protect me tonight, ''I pray in my mind. ''Don't let me get hurt. I'm fourteen years old, alone and lonely. Help, please... '' ''Hey, what're you doin' out here? "Huh?" I whip around. I see a tomcat standing behind me. He has striped grey fur and yellow eyes. He's eying me suspiciously. "Oh, hello. What's your name?" Hmph. Typical human girl. Sees a cat, asks for its name. What're you gonna do, little girl? Adopt me? ''the tomcat asks sarcastically. I feel myself frowning. "Look, I can't adopt you right at this moment," I say. "I can't feed you, nor do I have a home." ''Wait just a damn minute. Did you just answer me? ''the cat asks, his eyes widening. "Yes, I just did answer you," I say, resting my chin on my hand. "I can understand you, you know." ''Yeah, right. Stupid human, ''the cat thinks. "I heard that," I snap. "I may be a little crazy for being able to understand cats' thoughts and talking, but I'm not stupid." ''What's your name, little girl? ''the cat demands. He sounds like he's anxious for my answer. "What's it to you?" I ask. ''Here's a deal; you give me a name and I'll give you a place you can stay for the night, ''the cat says. "How do I know you're not fooling me?" The cat impatiently rolls his eyes. ''Come with me. It's not like you have anywhere else to go, ''he says, walking off. I follow him to the hill behind the alley. ''See over there, little girl? ''he asks, pointing his left paw at an old cellar just below the hill. ''That's my place. Now, you can stay there if you tell me your name. And how you can understand us cats. '' "My name's Maren," I say. "And don't ask me how I can understand you; I just do. Have since birth." ''Good enough, ''the cat says. ''C'mon Maren. Let's go to my home. By the way, I'm Tobias. '' I follow Tobias to his home. "How do you get in the cellar, Tobias? Cats don't have thumbs." Tobias rolls his eyes, as if I should know the answer. ''There's a hole in the ground. That's how we get in, ''he says. "Oh, I-wait, did you say ''we? There's not just you?" I ask. Tobias nods. He goes to a hole beneath a bush. Wait here. I'll tell the others of your coming. ''Tobias pops down the hole, leaving me in wait. He doesn't take long, as he pops up a minute later. ''Okay, Maren, they know. Use the cellar door over there. Bolt it from the inside. And be as quiet as possible. We don't want to risk getting found. They'll separate us. "Are the cats inside your family, Tobias?" I ask curiously. Tobias shakes his head. Not all of them. My sister Sheila and her kittens live here, but they're my only family. My sister's mate lives here too. But there is families here, many containing young kittens. So be quiet! We don't want to be separated. '' "I understand completely," I say. I go over to the cellar door and slowly get it to open. Looking around to make sure no one sees me, I ease myself inside as not to scare the cats. The steps creak, making me uneasy. I shut the door once I make it to the fourth step and bolt it with an old pipe. These cats sure are clever. All cats are. When I turn around, I see dozens of pairs of eyes looking at me. Some eyes are fascinated, some are afraid, few are indifferent. I mentally count the cats and my count is forty-seven. Damn. ''Tobias, why in the hell did you bring a human here?! We're gonna get found! ''A brown male cat hisses at Tobias. He's a stray. I can tell by the dirt in his fur. ''She can understand us, Rocky, ''Tobias hisses back. ''Besides, I couldn't just leave her on the street. She might be useful. Rocky eyes me. His eyes are a deep green. Doesn't look like there's much to her, ''Rocky snaps. "I can be useful," I tell the judgmental cat. "I can probably get food for you guys easier than you can get it for yourselves." All the cats in the room gasp, including Rocky. Tobias rolls his eyes again. ''Is she a Listener?! ''Rocky demands Tobias. "What's a Listener?" I ask Rocky. Rocky ignores my question. ''Yes, she is, ''Tobias says in a tone that says ''You-should-know-that-you-dumbass. "Tobias, what's a Listener?" I ask Tobias. A Listener, human, is what we call a human that can understand cats' talks and thoughts, ''a cat answers. It's not Tobias. From the crowd, an old cat emerges. The cats clear. This is obviously an important figure in the colony of cats. "So, I'm a Listener?" I say to the old cat, crouching to make myself look smaller. ''Yes, child. You are a Listener. They're quite rare, ''the old cat says. ''My name is Desdemona, and I am the decision maker of this group. What is your name, human child? "I'm Maren, Desdemona. It's nice to meet you," I say respectfully. Desdemona smiles. You are obviously one who respects cats, ''she meows. Desdemona is ''old. Older than Cookie. I can see why Tobias brought you here. Welcome, Maren. Cats, let us welcome our guest! Welcome, Maren! ''every cat except Tobias, Rocky and Desdemona says. "Thank you for having me," I say, smiling a little. For the first time in my life, I feel accepted. Chapter 2: The Cat CellarCategory:Original StoryCategory:Explicit After I've been formally welcomed into the group, the cats slowly disband to their own business. Except Rocky. He hisses at me, ''What good are you humans if all you do is abandon us cats? ''With those words, he walks away haughtily. ''Don't mind Rocky, Maren, ''Tobias tells me. ''He was once a loved kitty pet, but his owner was forced to give him up for reasons I don't know. That broke him inside, and now the only things that mean something to him are his mate and his children. '' "Oh, so Rocky's got a mate?" I repeat. "Forgive me for saying this, but his attitude doesn't say 'family-man.'" Tobias chuckles. ''It's alright, girl. I've said those words plenty of times and each time, my sister gets annoyed, ''he says, stretching out. "Your sister is Rocky's mate?" I ask. "And father of her children?" Tobias nods. ''I don't know how they clicked, but they did. It may not look it, but Rocky loves Sheila. The only one who he's ever nice to. She's got him in the palm of her paw. '' "Hey, Tobias?" ''Yeah? "Thank you for bringing me here for the night." ...Hmph. I get down on my hands and knees. The cellar is small, but I can just barely stand in it cuz I'm short. I decide to look around Helly-o! A tiny kitten's voice makes me look to the right, to possibly the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life. An orange calico kitten with yellow eyes, smiling up at me. She's probably too young to know I'm human and thus, isn't afraid of me. Hi-hi! ''the tiny kitten greets me. ''I'm Gingersnap, but everyone calls me Ginger. You're the funniest-looking cat I've ever seen! You're really big and your fur is pink. Are you a Sphinx? '' "No, Ginger, I'm not a cat," I smile. Ginger is so damn adorable. "I'm a human. My name is Maren." ''Hue-man? What's a, hue-man? ''Ginger asks, plopping herself down on the floor. Before I can tell her, I hear a familiar voice boom ''GINGER! ''I look up and see Rocky. Perfect. ''Daddy! ''Ginger mews happily, pouncing over to Rocky. Suddenly, Rocky takes on a new look. His eyes fill with tenderness and love and he relaxes. "Ginger's your daughter, Rocky?" I ask. Rocky glares at me, protectively putting a paw over his daughter. ''I have four children, human, ''he says. ''Ginger is my only girl. What're you doing near my daughter, human? "Your attitude doesn't exactly say 'family-man,' Rocky. Besides, Ginger is a kitten. She was just being friendly," I say to the cat. Yeah, friendly, Daddy! ''Ginger mews again, leaving her father and going to me. ''Maren is my new friend! She says she's a hue-man. What's a hue-man, Daddy? Is it a time of cat? '' Before Rocky can answer, something catches Ginger's attention. It's the short tail in the back of my hoodie. I love my cat hoodie. I've had it since I was four years old. It's a orange-tabby cat colored hoodie, with ears on the hood and a tail in back. The tail has caught the young kitten's attention. ''Ooh! Tail! ''Ginger meows excitedly, then pouncing on my "tail." She bites it several times before asking me, ''Are you a kitty, Maren? '' I laugh. "No, sweetie. I'm human," I explain. "Humans don't have tails." Ginger ponders my words, the hoodie's tail between her tiny paws. ''Then why do YOU have a tail? ''she asks. ''Were you born with one? I laugh even harder. Ginger cracks me up. "Here, lemme show you," I say, slowly taking my "tail" out of her paws as to not pull her tiny claws. I unzip my hoodie, then shiver in the cold night. Still, I hold up my hoodie for Ginger to see. Ginger's eyes widen, like they're about to pop out of her head. AHH! MAREN TOOK HER FUR OFF! AHH! ''she scream-meows, getting every cat's attention. ''What happened?! ''a different cat voice cries. It's a female cat, I can tell. Her voice is deeper than Ginger's high-pitched squeal. A medium-sized female calico emerges. She's smaller than Rocky and has green eyes. She looks a lot like Ginger. I realize this cat must be Sheila, Tobias' sister, Rocky's mate and Ginger's mother. ''Oh, hello, Maren, ''Sheila smiles. ''I'm Sheila. I see you've met my mate, my brother and my daughter. It was very nice of Tobias to bring you here. A Listener can help us. I hope my family hasn't bothered you much. "No, not at all," I smile, in spite of the fact Rocky is rude to me whenever he gets the chance. "It's very nice to meet you, Sheila." What manners! You are respectful of cats, ''Sheila nods in approval. At that moment, we hear cries of ''Mama! Dad! Where you? Three little kittens come, and they're just as adorable as Ginger. They're all so tiny, the biggest not even the size of my hand. They all resemble Rocky with the exception of eye color. Boys! Shh! Some are trying to sleep! ''Sheila scolds the kittens. Turning back to me, she shakes herself off and says, ''Oh, Maren, these are our boys. Our big boy right here is Royal. ''She nudges the biggest lightly with her paw. ''This boy here is Prince, the naughtiest of our four and the third of our litter. ''She faces the second kitten. ''And Squeak, our littlest boy, is our youngest. He's quite shy, so it'll take a bit before he gets used to you. ''Squeak shyly hides behind his parents. "They're all so beautiful," I say in awe. "You've got to be very proud of such a fantastic family." ''Thank you, dear, ''Sheila smiles, leaning forward. I realize she's allowing me to pet her. I do, slowly and hesitantly. Rocky puffs up in pride and pleasure. At that moment, Squeak sneezes. ''Mama...I'm cold... he says softly. I know, honey bun. Come by Mama, ''Sheila coos her youngest son. My heart aches for the young kitten. Sheila sighs. ''It's been getting colder recently. Sooner or later, we might have to move, Rocky, ''she says to her mate. "Move?" I repeat. "Where?" Sheila shakes her head. ''I don't know, dear, ''she answers. ''Somewhere warmer. My children could F-R-E-E-Z-E T-O D-E-A-T-H. We-the whole colony of us-lost a kitten last winter. But...we've been here for two years and most of us are unwilling to leave. Some have left already. We may have to leave if it gets colder. ''She sighs again. I realize the dangers the cats are in. It's freezing cold in the winter in St. Louis, but according to what Sheila has just said, the cats have lived in the cellar for two years. Many of the cats are kittens. I have to help them, since they've accepted me. "Where's Desdemona? I need to talk to her," I say to Rocky and Sheila. Sheila motions with her head to a hole in the back of the cellar. ''She has her own space in there, ''she says. ''She spends almost all of her time in there. I'm certain she's in there. "Okay, thank you," I say, crawling to Desdemona's space. Taking a breath, I poke my head inside, prepared to help the cats. Chapter 3: Supplies "Desdemona? May I talk to you?" I ask the elderly cat. From the moment I poke my head in, the more I see how much help the cats need. Desdemona's space is nothing but a hole. There's nothing but dirt and a few weeds. ''Ah, the Listener. Yes, you may talk to me. Enter, ''Desdemona says. I crawl in and find the space is just about my size. "Desdemona, I heard from Sheila that it's getting harder and harder to live here," I say. I know it's none of my business, but I need to help. ''Sheila is quite the worrier, ''Desdemona comments. ''Having a brother who breaks the rules and four curious kittens would do that to you, child. Yes, as she said, it's true. Some of our colony left and in the winter, it's horribly cold. '' "If you'll allow me, I can help," I offer. ''And might I ask how you intend to help? ''Desdemona asks. I swallow. Here goes. "I can go and get some food and blankets for you," I offer. "That way, you won't be so cold and hungry."